Bedford climbs west from the Merrimack in easy slopes, and the lawns along its roads are the town's front face — open, sunlit, seen by everyone driving past. We mow them on a rhythm, hold the edges sharp along walks and beds, and pull the leaf fall out of the corners each October. Then the cold settles over the river valley and the same properties need something else altogether: drives plowed, steps shoveled, walks treated before anyone leaves for work. Doing both means we know these yards in every light, the June green and the January blue. It's a good town to look after.